


Short Story #2

by AsceOfSpades



Series: AotC Universe [3]
Category: Original Work, The Adventures of the Carnaster
Genre: F/F, F/M, spinoff of AotC, still fantasy my dudes, still not really canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsceOfSpades/pseuds/AsceOfSpades
Summary: Our heroes wake up to breakfast (which is great!) and daemons (not so great!).





	Short Story #2

Ienje walked onto the deck, the air silent and heavy. The sky was still dark, but hues of red were creeping up the horizon. Those she could see on shift were struggling to stay awake. She sent them off to their hammocks with a few quiet words and a promise. Traveling below-decks, but in the other half of the ship, she retired away to her cabin, only managing a few hours of sleep before she struggled to awaken.

* * *

Esmeé was no stranger to waking with someone else in her bed, especially those she didn’t know. But usually, when she was on her ship, that didn’t happen. She panicked, trying to move out of the bed as quickly as she could, when the figure hummed quietly and rolled over to face her.

It was Serrah. Serrah was lying in her bed like it was hers. Just how drunk had she been? Certainly not enough to act on a stupid little crush… right? Right?? She lifted the covers and breathed a sigh of relief to see her clothes, before realizing it meant Serrah had changed her. Face red in mortification, she jumped over the girl and out of bed, running to her private bathroom.

* * *

Naranta awoke to a spacious hammock, though she thought she remembered Zelera coming in late at night. The sick bay was empty, no doctor to supervise her and keep her from leaving. So, stitches on her arm and lower back pulling, she eased herself out of the bed. Biting her lip to ignore the pain, she struggled a few steps forward. The door was within reach, she was going to make it-

“Where are you going?” The doctor rushed out of their personal cabin, toothbrush sticking out of their mouth. Naranta grimaced at being caught, and resigned herself to a lifetime of struggling in the sick bay. Warm liquid at her lower back interrupted her laments, and she was conscious just long enough to realize her stitches had opened.

* * *

Hayme woke first, Raylan still snoring away like no time had passed. In reality, the calming waves of the ocean made her wonder just that. What was time? Did it pass the same way, here in this far off ocean, that it did in, say, Central Vontrol? She doubted it. Heaving herself to her feet unsteadily, she wobbled over to the door. She had never earned her sea legs, preferring to keep far away from ships, and it was taking her toll now. Outside, the sky was a pale yellow, like an egg yolk from a very large bird. Her stomach grumbled. Perfect time to get breakfast.

* * *

Raylan fell out of bed. It wasn’t a graceful affair, either; his entire body crunched together painfully and he was jolted from sleep immediately. Face-first in the floor, Raylan was quietly grimacing, until he realized how hilarious he must look. Chuckling to himself, he rubbed his head and headed to the bathroom. He looked as if he had been in a fight. He laughed.

* * *

Zelera didn’t know where she was, at first. She remembered crawling into bed with Naranta, remembered being awoken by a strange noise, remembered following that noise, but… where was she now? The sky was bright and blue above her, and she was surrounded by wood of a sort. Sitting up found her… in a rowboat? The crew milled about on deck, some sparing her weird glances. She shook her head and clambered down. There better have been leftovers.

* * *

Aerwyn may have had some of the best sleep of her life, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t up early. The sky with its last hues of yellow found her up and eager to eat whatever was placed in front of her. She was feeling much better than she had previously, perhaps sleeping in a real hammock did that to you- stowing away wasn’t as fun as in those shitty romance novels. Not that she would know; she didn’t read them, not ever.

Hayme was already awake, but that didn’t surprise Aerwyn. She remembered the story the young girl had told her. Being trapped on a ship that had to be at least the slightest bit similar had to bring back some bad memories for the girl. She spared Hayme a smile as she sat next to her.

“You aren’t eating?” Was Hayme’s first question.

“Food’s ready? Where is it?”

“Aerwyn. Turn around.” Aerwyn pursed her lips when she spotted the table covered in food. She stood and walked to grab a plate, leaving Hayme to stare after her in amusement. Loading her plate full, she returned to the table to see Ienje shuffling towards them. She lost her playful demeanor immediately, remembering where they were.

“Good morning!” Hayme waved to the first mate, but Ienje looked at her, bags large and puffy under her eyes. Hayme’s eyes widened at the sight and she looked away, but Aerwyn tilted her head.

“What’s wrong with you? Tired?” With a slow nod, Ienje departed from their company for a meager amount of food. She sat back down, across from Hayme, and played with what was on her plate. Against her better judgement, Aerwyn frowned.

“I don’t believe you.” She stated bluntly. No point in beating around the bush; Ienje was sick.

“I’m fine. I just need to eat.” To prove her point, she stabbed at some egg with her fork and lifted it to her mouth, chewing slowly. Aerwyn continued to stare at her until Hayme grabbed her attention.

“Naranta looks better.”

“Hm?”

“Naranta.” Hayme pointed to the left of Aerwyn, and the trio watched as Naranta hobbled toward them, leaning heavily on the ship’s medic.

“Aren’t you a doctor? You need to take her to the sick bay. Look at her.” With one glance in Ienje’s direction, the doctor all but dropped Naranta at the table and rushed off with Ienje. Hayme giggled, and Naranta grinned at the ghost of a smile that appeared on Aerwyn’s face.

“Your customs are strange. I do not understand why you do not express emotion.” Naranta took the seat Ienje had given up, however unwillingly. Aerwyn made a face at the comment.

“See, she shows emotion! She just has a difficult time with it.” Hayme grinned, almost wolfishly. Aerwyn smacked her in the back of the head, and the group laughed childishly. Free for almost a perfect moment… like they hadn’t stowed away on the ship in the first place.

“Glad to see you’re acclimating.” Esmeé swaggered over to their table, Aerwyn immediately becoming defensive. Why, she did not know, but her hackles raised all the same. And here she had been joking about Hayme’s wolfish actions.

“Well enough.” Was about all Aerwyn could ground out. She could not, for the life of her, understand what she was doing. Hayme, however, knew immediately.

“Sorry she’s like this. I mean, all antagonistic-like. She usually is, but I think she’s acting like this now because you’re both alphas.” Hayme shrugged. “She usually doesn’t have to deal with other leaders… actually, on that topic, you should see her and the queen… not a pretty sight.” Esmeé looked towards Aerwyn, the pair both making eye contact. Aerwyn was getting a little fed up with all the analogies towards wolves.

“‘S that so?” Esmeé murmured quietly, eyebrow arched over a singular hazel orb. Aerwyn’s eye twitched.

“It is not like you are wolves, neither of you are alphas. I would say you are both Dominant, though.” Naranta nodded slowly, as to confirm herself. “Yes, Dominant indeed.” Aerwyn looked toward the dark-skinned girl, completely confused.

“And that means?” Esmeé inquired. Naranta’s face went red.

“I- well, alright. In my culture, there are those who are Dominant, those who are Submissive, and those who are… er, well, those who are just there. Apologies, there is no word in your language to describe them.” Naranta scratched the back of her head, forgetting about her injuries and causing herself a good deal of pain. “A-anyway, those who are Dominant take up the mantle, they are our leaders. Some are less Dominant than others, they are seconds to our firsts. Those who are Submissive perform menial labour. Those who are just there are able to perform many jobs. I was one of them. Hunting was left to us, though we were always led by a Dominant one. In fact, we hunted a bit like wolves.” She grinned, mirroring Hayme’s earlier grin. “If either of you had been born to my culture, you would be Dominant. It is common for those who are Dominant to fight amongst each other.” Naranta winced once more, feeling her back. There was warm blood. Again.

“I have overstayed my welcome up here. Hayme, would you-”

“Of course!” She jumped up quickly, holding Naranta against her red sleeve.  _ Those bandages finally come in handy.  _ Aerwyn grinned to herself, before realizing that she and Esmeé were alone.

“Listen, I-” A loud wolf whistle threw Esmeé off. Turning around, she caught sight of Serrah’s bright red face as she emerged from her cabin.

“Oh no.” She sunk under the table. “I’m not here. Don’t let them know I’m here.” Aerwyn quirked an eyebrow and suppressed a sigh.

“Aerwyn!!” Raylan ran to the table, nearly slipping and falling, but ultimately catching himself on the table.

“Ray.” She raised a glass at him. He surveyed the empty table, and began to take a seat.

“Oi!” Esmeé threw herself out from under the table to prevent being stepped on.

“Sorry!” Raylan exclaimed, hopping backwards on one foot.

“Captain!!” A crewmate yelled, an awful grin twisting on their face.

“Go away.” She groaned, lying on the deck.

“But Captain,” they grinned, squatting down next her. “We had no idea you two were a thing!”

“Thale’s mighty breasts, go die in a hole will you?” She covered her ears, the jeering of the crew eventually fading.

“That’s exactly how it was when you guys found out Hayme and I were dating.” Raylan grinned, finally taking a seat.

“Mm.” Aerwyn took a sip of milk. The white liquid looked thicker than normal. “Where d’you think this’s from?” Raylan took the glass, drank from it, and smelled it.

“Hm… I haven’t the slightest idea.” He grinned. Aerwyn pulled a face at the boy.

“It’s probably from the coast.” Zelera added, slumping forward. “They aren’t able to travel far inland, and there are goats and cows that graze on seaweed. Which it’s from, though, I couldn’t say.”

“Well then. What’s happened to you?”

“She wouldn’t know.” An impish voice called from above. “Because I didn’t sit her down and talk to her when I cursed her.” Before they could even locate the voice’s owner, they heard an inhuman screech and the creature dropped to the floor, arrow embedded in it.

“Thanks!” Raylan yelled to the sniper, who sent him a thumbs up. “Goddesses, I hate daemons.”


End file.
